Norman Rockwell’s work isn’t my thing. I find his paintings too saccharine, his subjects’ innocence too forced. And I wasn’t alive during his heyday, so the appeal to nostalgia eludes me.
In “The Connoisseur,” a gray-suited man, presumably a stand-in for Rockwell, examines a Jackson Pollock painting and wonders if the generational baton has been passed. It was painted in 1962, on the cusp of the culture wars — a moment plumbed every week in the hallways of Sterling, Cooper, Draper, Pryce.
I thought: yes, a glimmer of irony–there’s hope for Rockwell yet.
Okay, not exactly Don Draper-esque levels of irony, but still.
Telling Stories: Norman Rockwell from the Collections of George Lucas and Steven Spielberg runs through January 2, 2011.